Listen to yo mama before ya end up in set thread
This shit make a nigga wanna get some bread or bust a head
We buy out stores till its all too gone
Didn't yo mama tell you that is wrong
He gave me so much drama i had to call my mama,
I ain't gotta tell you they know about me, huh
How could i not blow? all i do is drop "f" bombs
I got these bitches brewin' inside of my gold pots
Convicted, ma mama predicted when i was addicted
I don't respect no brain unless we talkin' that saliva spit
But mama, why am i so special?
The most ill, more drama than denzel
Wocky, she's a dancer, walkie-talkie ace for back up like fag
How could i not blow? all i do is drop f-bombs, feel my wrath of attack
Is written in our souls, africa
Wanna hear a joke yo mama loves ya
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